


Group Four

by azephirin



Series: Ghosts [9]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Absent Characters, Adult Content, Established Relationship, F/M, Multi, Other, Safe Sane and Consensual, Starfleet Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-21
Updated: 2010-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-13 23:05:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/142703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azephirin/pseuds/azephirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>A world in myself, ready to sing.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Group Four

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** Consensual sexual power play. References to canon-level violence.  
>  **Disclaimer:** Not mine, which makes me sadder than you can possibly imagine.  
>  **Author's note:** More from the [Ghosts](http://archiveofourown.org/series/2586) 'verse. Prompts courtesy of the iTunes "random" feature. Title and summary from [the Massive Attack song](http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/massiveattack/groupfour.html).

“I believe I told you to keep your hands on the bedposts.” She pauses. “Admiral.”

Chris stretches. “I’m sensing some chain-of-command issues.” He pauses. “Commodore.”

“The chief officer’s command preempts aboard her ship,” One retorts. “Turn over.”

“Or what? You’ll have me put in the brig?”

“No.” Her eyes gleam. “Flogged.”

“Don’t throw me into that briar patch,” Chris murmurs, but he obeys, and shivers as One runs a finger down his spine.

He’s not quick enough to bite back his gasp when she slaps him across the ass.

“I may do it anyway,” One muses, and Chris says, “Yes.”

[[Because the Night](http://www.oceanstar.com/patti/lyrics/because.htm), Patti Smith and Bruce Springsteen (performed by 10,000 Maniacs)]

  


+||+||+

  
Winona’s having lunch and reviewing the communications unofficially labelled as “things the captain needs to see—no, really, Captain Kirk, you actually need to read these.” Her yeoman comes in, pecking at a PADD, but Winona doesn’t pay attention until Samara says, “Congratulations on your son’s entry into the Academy, sir.”

“Neither of my sons went to the Academy,” Winona says, only marginally distracted from an update on diplomatic efforts toward the Romulans.

“James Tiberius Kirk, from Riverside, Iowa, Earth,” Samara recites, and at that, Winona looks up. “The list of matriculating candidates was released today.”

“Let me see that.” Winona takes the PADD even before Samara can hand it to her. There it is, one name among many: her younger son’s. Despite herself, Winona touches a finger to the screen, as though the letters might somehow sense it in Jim’s stead. “I’ll be double-damned,” she finally says.

“He honors your accomplishments and your husband’s legacy, by choosing to follow your path.”

Winona has to remind herself that Samara’s actually not an idiot and that she’s saying what most people will think—and what they’ll say, so Winona should get used to it.

“That’s not why he’s doing it,” Winona says.

[[Everything](http://jehro.free.fr/htmlen/2006_jehro01.htm), Jehro]

  


+||+||+

  
The minute they’re inside the hotel room, Jim shoves Spock against the wall—Nyota’s not sure the door is even closed all the way. “I sat through that whole fucking thing and all I wanted to do was suck you,” he says as his hand goes between Spock’s legs and starts to rub, intent and knowing. “Wanted to go down on you right there, in the middle of that boring-ass symphony—”

“The composer Tor Jolan is renowned for great subtlety of orchestration—”

Jim leans back to look Spock in the eye. “Did you seriously just interrupt my soliloquy about the amazing blow job I’m going to give you to argue whether that symphony was a snore? Because, let me tell you, it was.”

“The mere fact that you were unable to appreciate its nuances—”

“Oh my God, shut up, both of you,” Nyota begs. She kisses Spock, and Jim does snicker, but when she looks back down, he’s on his knees, eyes closed, rubbing his cheek against the shape of Spock’s evident arousal. “You know I like Jolan’s work,” Nyota whispers to Spock, winding their fingers together. “But I couldn’t think about anything except fucking you, either.”

[[Symphony no. 83 in G minor, "La Poule,"](http://1001classical.blogspot.com/2008/08/142-joseph-haydn-symphony-no83-la-poule.html) Joseph Haydn]

  


+||+||+

  
 _Rian,_

 _I’m fine, Jim’s fine, Uhura’s fine, and Gaila’s fine. Sulu lost a lot of blood, but he’s resting comfortably and we’ll take him off sedation in the morning. Spock will be fine—at this point his own body can do more for him than we can—barring the strong possibility of Jim killing him once he wakes up. (The irony of Jim Kirk angry at somebody else’s ill-advised act of self-sacrifice is lost only on Jim Kirk.) I want a drink more than I can express, but even though I’ve been ordered to sleep for four hours—fucking Jim and Chapel threw me out of my own medical bay—there’s no guarantee I won’t get called in if the new ensign from Security takes a turn for the worse or any number of things happen that the goddamn CMO should be present in the event of. The only thing I want more than that drink is you asleep beside me so that I can wrap my hand around your hip and bury my fingers in your hair and reassure myself that some benevolent god must exist, since he, she, or it gave you to me._

 _I love you._

 _—Leonard_

[[Dip](http://www.stlyrics.com/songs/t/thc22131/dip570013.html%22), THC]


End file.
